Daily Deviant
- there is no such thing as 'too kinky'
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3rd October 2009 20:09 - FIC: On The Hogwarts Express
Title: On The Hogwarts Express
Author: [info]iamisaac
Characters: Ron/Neville
Rating: erm, hard-ish R?
Warnings: unsexy sex, accidental voyeurism
Themes/kinks chosen: Edible aphrodisiacs
Word Count: ~1800
Summary: "It was Fred and George's fault. Everything that went wrong for Ron (with the exception of a couple of Voldemort induced problems) was Fred and George's fault."
Author's notes: 1. Thanks, [info]lee_west, darling, for managing to cope with Neville!sex in your beta-ing job. You do rock so very much, you know.
2. I'm a few hours early, because I have the day from hell tomorrow and intend to go straight from work to bed (on my own!) and will not have time to post. Sorry. Shut your eyes and imagine it's 4 hours later.



Ron honestly never intended to seduce Neville on the Hogwarts Express.

It was Fred and George's fault. Everything that went wrong for Ron (with the exception of a couple of Voldemort induced problems) was Fred and George's fault. He should've known that something was up the night before going back to Hogwarts, when Fred and George appeared in his bedroom doorway.

“Hi ickle Ronnie,” Fred said cheerfully.

“What do you want?”

“We've come, little bro, to gladden your heart.”

“Oh yeah?” Ron sounded less than excited; his brothers were never that willing to gladden his heart.

“Well, there's no need to be like that about it, Ron,” said George. “We thought that, since this would be your first time in the big wide world catching the Hogwarts Express without us, we should give you a little present.”

“What?”

“The boy doesn't trust us. Can you believe that, Fred?”

“Shocking,” Fred said, shaking his head seriously. “Truly shocking.”

“And here we are, bringing sweeties to improve ickle Ronnie's journey to school without his brothers to look after him.”

“Oh,” said Ron, taken off-guard. “Thanks.”

Fred threw him a bag of sweets and a grin. “Don't eat them all at once. Share 'em with Harry.”

“Or Hermione,” said George.

“Or both.”

“So, good luck, Ron. Remember you've got the Weasley name to live up to. We want to see a lot more havoc caused by you than in previous times.”

“Yeah,” Ron said. “And... thanks.”

“You're welcome, little bro, you're welcome.”

And the twins were gone.

*

Ron would happily have shared the loot with Harry and Hermione, had he seen anything of them on that journey. Hermione was busy being prefectly; whenever she saw Ron, she suggested that he might do the same, until he started hiding when he saw her coming. Harry... Harry seemed to have a veritable obsession with Draco Malfoy, and was stalking him with single-minded purpose. Which left Ron with a bag of sweets and no one to share them with.

They were decent sweets, too, much to Ron's surprise. And he'd checked after eating the first one, and his mouth hadn't turned black or anything. They didn't encourage you to stuff them all at once: by the time they'd been on the train two hours, Ron had only eaten three – but that was probably an advantage. Ron had awful memories of a horrible train journey not so long ago, when the number of Bertie Botts' beans he'd eaten had come back to haunt him. And when Neville bumbled into his carriage, Ron was happy to offer him as many sweets as he fancied.

“Thanks,” said Neville. “Gran doesn't really approve of sweets, so...”

Ron wondered, privately, whether there was anything which Neville's Gran did approve of. “Go for it,” he said out loud. “Fred and George gave 'em to me to eat on the train.”

Neville stopped, the sweet half-chewed in his mouth. “What's the trick?” he asked suspiciously.

“Funny that,” said Ron; “I wondered the same thing. But I've had three so far, and they've not done anything. You know they're running a joke shop, right? I think maybe they're too busy creating things for the store to bother about playing pranks on unsuspecting mates. Why give things away when you can sell them?”

He should've known his brothers better. He did know his brothers better than that. What on earth had come over him?

Neville continued chewing. “Nice,” he mumbled through a mouthful, his tone surprised.

It occurred to Ron, looking at him, that Neville was actually a darn sight better looking than he'd ever given him credit for. Somehow, his gaze had always sort of drifted over Neville – for one thing, he was a boy and Ron didn't... at least, he'd thought he didn't... fancy guys. And anyway, even putting that to one side, he'd kind of thought of him as 'just' Neville.

“Neville...” he began.

“Mmph?”

“Nothing,” said Ron, wimping out. “Here, have another sweet.” He tossed one to Neville and stuffed another into his mouth.

Neville chewed through the second one, and Ron noticed that Neville appeared to be looking at him rather a lot. He wondered, guiltily, whether Neville had realised he'd been checking him out and was doing the same back again to demonstrate how uncomfortable it felt. But that wasn't like Neville, whose mind simply didn't work along devious pathways. Neville was.... as well as being extremely attractive, he was also an Incredibly Nice Person. How had Ron got this far through their schooltime together without realising how damn gorgeous, in every way, Neville Longbottom was?

“Ron,” said Neville, timidly, at this point. “Why do you keep looking at me?”

“Erm...” Ron hesitated, but decided to go for it. What was there to lose? “Neville, erm, I hope you don't mind me saying this, but... Erm, well – you're very attractive.”

Neville's cheeks flushed red. “You're teasing me, Ron. Is this because you can see that I'm attracted to you? I mean, I wouldn't do anything about it, obviously, or anything, but...”

“What did you say?”

“I said I wouldn't do anything about it,” Neville gabbled quickly.

“No, not that bit...” Ron shifted in his seat slightly, aware of his uncomfortably hard prick pressing against his pants. “The bit when you said... you know... about – 'attracted'.”

“Sorry,” Neville apologised.

“No, but...” Ron crossed the carriage and sat himself next to Neville. “Did you mean it? I mean...” Words forsook him at that point, and in lieu of explaining, he grabbed Neville by the shoulders and drew him into not so much a kiss as an out-and-out snog.

“Mmph,” Neville said again, as they pulled clumsily apart. His face was redder than ever; his eyes blinking open and shut with unnerving rapidity. “I...”

“Erm. Sorry. I didn't mean that to happen,” Ron mumbled.

In response, Neville pulled Ron back into his arms, and they exchanged another awkward but very thorough kiss, this time with added wandering hands by the boys, as they wondered why they had never realised how hot the other was. Neville's prick, Ron noticed, was as hard as his own; by lying on the carriage floor, it was possible to line themselves up so that the two cocks rubbed against each other and...


“Fuck,” Ron said, wondering if his head was going to explode from the sensation.

“Mmph,” said Neville for a third time.

Suddenly there was too much in the way of robes, and Ron was scrabbling beneath - then letting go with a wild yell when he discovered something slimy in one of Neville's pockets: Trevor the toad crawled out with an indignant croak. Neville, however, seemed to have no time for his pet, busy as he was in unbuttoning Ron from superfluous layers of clothing. Neville's hand went to Ron's prick, as if magnetically drawn to it; Ron, wriggling out of pants and trying to keep his mouth fused to Neville's, tried to persuade his cock that it didn't want to ejaculate immediately – not when there were so many other things he fancied trying. Neville seemed to have got his other hand stuck somewhere in the material of Ron's robes, and was flailing about in an attempt to draw free; but as the flailing of one hand was matched by movement by the one holding Ron's erection, he was inclined to think that it was not all bad news. However, as Neville's struggles became stronger, Ron couldn't help realising that they were taking away a certain something from the experience.

“Hang on a sec,” he said, attempting to free Neville from both sets of robes. “There, that's better.”

Possibly it should have occurred to either or both boys that rolling around naked on the floor of the Hogwarts Express was perhaps not the most sensible course of action. It occurred to neither of them.

“Ron...”

Now that he was freed from the restrictive clothing, Neville was able to concentrate more thoroughly on precisely what it was he was doing with Ron's prick. Ron, trying to repay the favour with Neville's, kept getting distracted by the fact that Neville was really rather talented in that particular way. In fact, he...

Neville muttered a spell, and suddenly the hand on Ron's cock was slippery.

“Erf,” Ron muttered, followed (as Neville caught both cocks up together in lubricated hands, sliding them against each other as well as against his fingers) by “Ooooooooofph”


Ron's eyes were shut most of the time, but at the moments he came to enough to open them, he could see the serious expression on Neville's face, as though this were a difficult potion he was trying to perfect - except that Neville wasn't much cop at potions, and he was bloody good at this. He tangled his legs with Neville's and ran hands down his sweaty front. Neville's breathing was becoming steadily more uneven as he worked the cocks between both hands. Ron wasn't sure how much longer he could hold out before coming, not when Neville was doing that so well. He felt his balls draw up inside him; on the verge of ejaculation, he...

“Ron Weasley!” Hermione's voice almost squawked with outrage.


Ron, too far gone to stop himself, gave a groan, come spurting through Neville's fingers onto the seats and floor around them. His own release set off Neville's; for a moment, not even the presence of a watching and utterly scandalised Hermione could stop the inevitable. She stood as if rooted to the spot, unable to tear her eyes away. As Ron returned to his normal self, he was suddenly hideously aware of his own nakedness, of the fact that he'd been...

“Shit,” he said, scurrying hastily to pick up the nearest set of robes to protect his modesty.


“Oh no,” Neville whispered, apparently too horrified to do anything more than roll over so that he could not see the expression on Hermione's face.

“Hermione,” Ron said desperately. “Hermione, it's not what it...” Apparently woken from a trance by his words, Hermione turned, running away down the corridor as if escaping a wild animal.

“HERMIONE!” Ron bellowed, starting to open the carriage door before remembering his state of (un)dress, and thinking better of it. “I...”

Other carriage doors were beginning to open, and students were looking out of every one. Ron, hastily, backed back into his own and slammed the door shut. Neville peered up at him from his position on the floor.

“That didn't just happen, did it?” he asked pathetically.

Ron gulped, nodded. His eyes fell on the bag of sweets discarded on the seat. Aphro-sweets, it would turn out: Fred and George's new range.

“I'll kill 'em. I'll kill 'em. I'll bloody kill them,” he said incoherently, dressing himself in Neville's robes in his outrage. He stopped. “Erm, but before that, I think I need to go and talk to Hermione...”
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